For a
couple of weeks, ever since we got the invitation to the afternoon buffet at
the Lord Lieutenant's home at Briddon Castle, I've been plotting and scheming
to make things better for Michael and me. I've also been working my wiles on
Father and Mother and Mr Bourne, and now we're finally at Briddon Castle, if I
get half a chance, I'll be working them on Sir Clarence again.

The
marquee is huge, although not many people are in it. It's hot in there, and
most of the guests are sitting on the lawn, or inside the castle. Father and
Mother and I are sitting on the grass by the lake, which has a number of swans
and ducks pedalling around on it. But I'm not looking at them... my eyes are on
the car park, and I'm waiting for Mr Bourne's car to appear. I can see a part
of the drive, and my heart misses a beat when I see the blue and silver car appear
around the rhododendron bushes, and I watch it pull up alongside a Rolls Royce
of 1930's vintage.

I get
to my feet. "They're here."

Mother
and Father get up, and we make our way over to the car. The Bournes and Alex
and Michael have seen us, and begin to walk towards us. I'm grinning before we
come together. Alex's sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, displaying his well
muscled forearms, and he gives me a thumbs-up. He may just be a miner from a
poor family, but apart from Michael, he's definitely the most handsome man here
today.

We all
shake hands, and Mother and Mrs Bourne get the customary pecks on the cheeks. I
grin when Alex shakes my hand, and I speak softly out of the side of my mouth.
"Behave yourself, you!"

Alex
puts his arm on my shoulder, and winks at me, and he whispers, "I'll be the
best behaved posh collier in town today, Lover Boy. How's that little pinkler
of yours doing? Introduce me to the Lord's daughter as soon as you can. My
little pinkler is beginning to think it's neglected."

Michael
knows what's going on, and he pulls a wry face at Alex, and then points a
finger at him. "I've told you. Behave!"

Alex
grins, and holds up his hands. "I'm on my best behaviour, aren't I Stuart?"

Fortunately,
we're saved by the butler. Well, one of them. He comes marching across to us.
"Ladies and Gentlemen; Sir Clarence has seen you arrive, and he's asked me
accompany you to the drawing room. Would you come with me please?"

He
doesn't walk slowly, and we try to keep up with him. Not Alex though. When I
look back, he's sauntering across the lawns, nodding to everyone, and when we
reach the stone steps leading up to the entrance to the castle, we have to wait
for him. When he does arrive, Michael looks daggers at him, but I can't stop
giggling. God knows what's going to happen when he meets Sir Clarence!

We're
escorted through the hall with its suits of armour and paintings of Sir
Clarence's ancestors hanging on the walls, and then into the drawing room.
Sir Clarence is with other guests, but as soon as he sees us, he excuses
himself and comes directly to us.

Introductions
are made, and all is polite... until Alex.

"You've
got a grand place here, Sir Clarence. I would hold a few balls here if I owned
it."

Inside,
I'm shuddering with amusement, but outside, I have to keep a straight face. But
it's difficult. I needn't have worried.

Sir
Clarence roars with laughter. "Indeed! My God! It's a long time since I've
heard such wit. Probably back in Burma, with men like your father. I really am
honoured to meet the two sons of Johnson."

I look
at Michael. His face is like beetroot, but Alex is all grins. We chat for a
while, and then Sir Clarence has to go and see to other guests. He parts by
saying he'll catch up with us later.

Out in
the gardens, we make our way to the marquee, select food and drink from the
amazing variety, and then all go down to the same place Mother and father and I
were sitting earlier. Its peaceful here, and somewhere far off, the lou lou
call of a peacock echoes across the castle grounds. Alex asks what it is.

Father
answers him. "It's a peacock, Alex. I don't suppose you hear many of those down
the coal mines."

Alex
is eating a turkey and stuffing sandwich. He chews for a while, and I can see
from the twinkle in his beautiful eyes that an amusing quip is about to come
from his mouth when he's finished, and I stifle a giggle before it does. He
swallows his mouthful, and I wait.

Alex
grins. "No, we don't. I had a peacock once. It was dead, though. I swapped it
for two rabbits and a trout off Billy Wooldridge. I was only sixteen at the
time. Dada went mad with me because I spent a whole Sunday morning cooking it,
and when I served it up with some taters and carrots and Brussels sprouts, it
was like a piece of meat the cowboys chew on when they're hungry out on the
range. Apparently, because they're a dry bird, they need to be cooked slowly,
and wrapped up, and plenty of fat on them." He looks at Michael, and sniggers.
"Do you remember that, Kiddo?"

Michael
has his chin on his chest, and is laughing fit to burst, and he manages to
gurgle a reply. "Yes. Dada was so angry that he scraped all our dinners onto
one plate, and then went and threw them down the backyard for the dog. Then he
stood there stomping his wooden leg, and cursing while he watched Judy eat just
the potatoes and the carrots and the sprouts. Even the dog wouldn't eat it."
Michael looks up, and grins at Alex. "Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

Of
course, while Alex is telling us this anecdote, and the manner in which he
tells it, has got the rest of us giggling with amusement, and Father prompts
him to finish the story.

"Well,
ok then. Judy always slept with Dada, and when we got up the next morning, he
was in a foul mood, and he was cursing me like nobody's business. I asked him
what the problem was. Apparently, the Brussels sprouts had `worked' on Judy
during the night, and Dada had to sleep with the window open all night."

Now,
even the ladies can't keep a straight face, and Mother is reduced to tears. So
am I.

We finish
eating, and Alex gets up and gathers all the plates. He grins again. "If you'll
excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'll take these away and have a stroll around
and see if I can find myself a pretty young lady to talk to." He looks directly
at me. "You did say the Lord's daughter was a good catch, Stuart. Can you see
her?"

I look
around, and spot her sitting at a table behind the low turreted wall of the
veranda. I point to her. "The one with the pretty blue dress and the dark
hair."

And
he's gone, strolling and nodding his way towards the castle with a load of
plates in his arms. A member of the catering staff goes to him and takes the
plates off him, and Alex gives him a low bow.

"He's
quite a character, your brother, Michael."

Michael
looks at Father, and grins. "My apologies for his behaviour, Sir. I can't take
him anywhere."

Mother
is smiling at Michael. She looks at Mr and Mrs Bourne. "Leslie; Angela; did
either of you have the good fortune to have him in one of your classes?"

Mrs
Bourne laughs. "Unfortunately, not. I wish I had. He has a wonderful sense of
humour. But, I suspect behind that façade there's a lot more to him. Am I
right, Michael?"

Michael
nods. "Oh yes. He's as brave as a lion, and as hard working as they come. And
that's what worries me."

I
place my hand on Michael's arm. "Why?"

Michael
shrugs his shoulders. "He works in a dangerous environment. Three years ago, he
was buried when the roof caved in. He was lucky. He may not always be so
lucky."

Father
breaks the melancholy that has descended over our group. "Why don't you two
chaps go for a walk or something? There are plenty of young ladies to introduce
yourselves to. Anne and I will take Leslie and Angela and do the rounds. Go on,
off you go, and we'll catch you later.

We
separate, and when Michael and I are alone, I look at him and grin. "To the
woods?"

He
grins back at me. "To the woods, Sexy."

*******
******* *******

Alexander
Johnson: Collier, meets Sir Clarence Reeves-Jenkins: Knight Commander The most
Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George; Military Medal, with
Bar; Military Cross, with bar; Lord-Lieutenant of the County.

*******

I've
no intentions of wooing the ladies today, although I have been tempted by a few
of the skirted ones that have taken my fancy. I have more important business on
my agenda, and, very probably, this is going to be the only chance I get.

I
wander up the stone steps and into the reception hall with the suits of armour
and ancestors hanging on the walls. Because I've not seen him in the grounds, I
reckon Sir Clarence will be around somewhere. My reckoning is right... he's in
the same room he was before, sitting in a green-leather chair that must be at
least three hundred years old, and chatting away to some high-and-mighties, who
are sitting around him. A waiter spots that I haven't got a drink, and comes to
me.

"Can I
get you something, Sir?"

I grin
at him. "No thank you. Thanks for asking."

He
seems genuinely surprised at my civility, and smiles and wanders off to serve
the real Nobility. It doesn't take long for Sir Clarence to spot me, and when
he does, he immediately gets up and comes to me.

"Ah,
Johnson! I was just thinking about you and Michael. You do realise this lot is
in your honour, do you?"

I'm
genuinely surprised. "No Sir, I didn't. And why is that, Sir?"

Sir
Clarence laughs. "It was that young Begbie boy. He's a scheming little fellow.
We were having dinner at the Begbie's, and he brought up your father's name. He
was genuinely surprised that I knew about your father. When he knew I did, he
didn't miss the opportunity to promote your brother in your father's name."

I laugh.
"Yes, I know what you mean. He's been to our home a few times, and I can see
his mind working overtime. If he worked down the pit, he'd earn a fortune. But
I like him. He's a lovely young man."

"I
agree. Anyway, was this a chance meeting, or have you been scheming, too?"

I look
surprised. "Certainly not, Sir! I was just wandering... having a look at how the
other half live. Dada spoke a lot about you."

Sir
Clarence laughs. "Now I know you're scheming. Come on, let's get away from this
lot and have a quiet drink together."

Arm on
my shoulder, he leads me out of the large room, along the hallway and into a
smaller room: an office or a study. There are more easy chairs in here; maroon,
leather ones, and he points to one. "What's your fancy, Alex?"

"I'll
have a brandy, please, Sir."

"Good.
I'll join you."

He
pours the drinks, hands one to me, and sits in the chair next to me. We're sort
of half facing one another. "Your father was a very special man, Alex. Did you
know that he was in my Company?"

"Yes
Sir, of course I did. And thank you for arranging the Guard of Honour. As a
matter of fact, and this not scheming, or bullshit, Dada had a very high regard
for you. He often spoke about you. Actually, he said you were the man who made
him realise that not all toffs are arseholes."

Sir
Clarence takes a sip of his drink, and smiles. "That's good to know. Did you
know that I was the Officer who recommended him for his Victoria Cross?"

"Yes,
I knew that. He never forgave you for it."

Now,
Sir Clarence is giggling. Then he shrugs his shoulders, and looks around the
room, sort of absent-mindedly, and I know his mind is far away. "We all have a
burden to bear. Damn! He deserved it. A lot of others did, too, there, but many
great acts of heroism went unnoticed. I just happened to be in a forward
position on that horrible day, and as we pushed forward, it was Major Jenkinson
who told me about it. Of course, I went to see your father. Well, what was left
of him that is. I honestly didn't think he'd got a cat in Hell's chance of
surviving. But he did, and he raised two fine sons. Perhaps that's his greatest
achievement?"

I
stare at him. "I think so, considering the shit my mother left him in. I've
worked with some good men down the pit: men of steel; hard men; courageous men,
but none of them match my Dada for his dedication and courage to drag us up. He
did his best, but his best isn't good enough."

"And
that's why you're here?"

"Yes,
that's why I'm here. I need your help."

He
takes another sip of his drink. "For Michael?"

"Yes
Sir. I can look after myself. Kiddo can, too, but without help, he won't reach
his potential. He's too stubborn and proud."

Sir
Clarence is serious now. "Us Toffs are all arseholes?"

"That's
pretty much it, Sir. Some of those teachers at school didn't bloody help. He
had poor clothes, and they treated him like dirt. Not Mr Bourne though. He's a
good guy. You're one of the good guys. I wouldn't be speaking to you if you
weren't. I don't bow to any man unless they've earned my respect."

"And I
have?"

"If
you're good enough to have Dada's respect, then that's good enough for me."

"And
how can I help?"

"I
haven't got a clue, Sir. I really haven't. I don't live in your world. If you
lived in mine, and you needed and deserved a leg-up, then you'd get it. All I'm
asking is that you use your influence to help Kiddo reach his full potential,
and I'm asking you as the son of a fellow comrade-at-arms. There was a massive
gulf in class between you and Dada, but the mortar shell that got Dada could
just as easily have got you. Dada understood that. I understand that, but now
we need to make Kiddo understand that. He won't get anywhere until he does."

Sir
Clarence tips his glass up, and drains it. He looks at me. I tip mine up, and
nod. He goes to the decanter and does the business, and then returns, gives me
my drink, and sits down again. "I'll do my best, but we might have a small
problem."

I
grin. "We might have a lot of big problems."

He
laughs. "I was referring to the fact that the best university for him will not be
in the city. He'll need to move away."

I
shake my head. "He won't do that."

Sir
Clarence is silent for a while, and he takes a drink from his glass before
continuing. "Young Begbie?"

I look
him straight in the eyes, and I know he knows. I nod.

"Alex,"
he takes another, absent-minded, sip of his brandy, "I went to public school.
An all-boys public school; and I've seen it all before. It will fizzle out in
time. They all do."

I
shake my head. "Not this one. This one will last, so it's not just a case of looking
after one. In fact, I've just doubled your workload. Where one will go, the
other will have to follow."

Sir
Clarence grins. "Do we have a bet on it lasting?"

I grin
back at him. "I'll bet my house against yours."

Loud
guffaws now, from the old soldier. "Done! It's a deal, and I hope I lose. Will
you call the debt in if you win?"

I
laugh. "No. I couldn't afford the coal bill. Just one thing though; if
anyone, deliberately, tries to come between them, then I'll burn their
house down."

Sir
Clarence nods, slowly. "Good man. I'll give you my word of honour that it won't
be me. Is that good enough?"

Sir
Clarence gets up, grins, swallows the remainder of his drink, and then puts an
arm on my shoulder. "I doubt your black eyes will win her heart. Do we have a
bet on it?"

I grin
back at him. "No Sir. I only bet on certainties."

We're
walking back together now, and Sir Clarence still has his hand on my shoulder.
We reach the big room where all the posh folk are, and he stops. "Would you
like me introduce you to some of my guests?"

I
shake my head. "No thank you Sir. I like to choose my friends carefully."

He
holds out a hand for me to shake, and I take it. Then he asks, "Am I one of
your friends?"

I
squeeze his hand. "Oh yes. I can see what Dada saw in you now. Right, I'll be
off. I'll see you later before we leave?"

"You
most certainly will. I'll need to catch up with Michael too. And that young
rogue, Begbie." Then he winks at me. "If I was as old as Michael, I think I
might have become smitten with him, too. He's a gorgeous young man!"

We
laugh as we part, and I wander out into the warmth of the day. My task is over,
and now I can do nothing but wait, but I have a feeling in my bones that some life-changing
events are in the offing.

End of
meeting.

**********

We're
walking along the edge of the lake, idly throwing food scraps at the ducks that
are paddling along beside us, and Stuart asks, "Did you bring any Vaseline?"

I
shake my head. "No. Did you?"

Stuart
pulls a wry face. "No. Damn and blast! I thought you would bring some." He
looks at me with a scowl on his face. "You're a waste of space, Johnson! You
know very well that I would want to. Are you going off me?"

I grin
at him. "No. I thought it was a garden party, not a sex party. I didn't think
we'd get the chance. You'll just have to settle for my love, and then do it
yourself tonight."

Stuart
snorts. "I would, but I've run out of bloody candles."

His
comment makes me laugh, and my reward is a snarling, glaring stare. Then I see
his face change, and he changes direction, and pulls me with him, and I have to
ask. "Where are we going?"

I
receive a mischievous grin. "I'm hungry."

"But
we've just eaten. You can't be hungry!"

Stuart
doesn't answer me, and like a lapdog, I follow him to the marquee. He fills a
paper plate with turkey, and ham-and-pickle bread rolls, and four pats of
butter that have been kept cool in a crystal glass bowl of water, picks up a
handful of paper serviettes, and leads us out of the marquee. Now I know what
he's up to.

As
we're walking towards the side of the castle, away from the people sitting on
the lawn, I can't stop giggling. "You're not serious, are you?!"

He
gives me his naughtiest smile. "Of course I am. You can have me with a bit of
pickle if you like. All we need to do is find one of our secluded places, and
you're all mine."

By the
time we've found a secluded spot, well away from the castle, in some woodland
behind a mock temple, the butter is almost melted. Stuart strips and folds his
clothes carefully, and orders me to do the same, and when he's lying on his
back with his legs to his shoulders and my cock slips easily into his buttered
up anus and his jaw quivers when I reach his magic spot, I kiss him and tell him
that he's a genius.

He
ignores me, and concentrates on the matter at hand. I bring him to his first
climax, and when he reaches it, and I watch his spunk spurt up his belly, he
stares into my eyes and whispers the words: "I love you Michael. I love you. I
love you."

He
relaxes, and tips his head back so I can get at his lips, and he locks his
hands around my head and crushes our mouths together. We kiss for long, tender
moments, and then he slips his hand down my body and grabs my bum, and pulls me
right into him until my pelvis is nestling against his soft buttocks. He locks
his legs around my waist; his arms around my neck, sucks my tongue right into
his hot mouth, and his small body is hanging from me as I bang away at him
until my spunk spurts deep inside him as I experience a fantastic, choking
climax .

I'm
lying, exhausted on the grass, and Stuart, sitting beside me is giggling as I
clean my cock thoroughly. Then he gets up, moves a short way away, stoops as if
he's having a crap, and pushes as much of my semen out of his bum as he can,
and cleans himself. Then we dress and continue our walk around the castle. As
we do, we catch sight of the peacock we heard earlier. He sees us, and scuttles
off into the bushes.

Stuart
looks at me and grins. "Two rabbits and a trout. Alex is so funny. I wonder if
he's managed to woo Eileen? I was half expecting them to join us in our
secluded place."

I
laugh. "He likes his comforts, does Alex. He'll have taken her to the master
bedroom."

We're
still chuckling as we meet up with Stuart's parents and Mr and Mrs Bourne. They
tell us that Sir Clarence wants to meet us, and we all go into the castle.

An
hour later, after Alex has joined us, boasting that he's had numerous advances,
but he's had to turn them down because he's on the noon shift next week; and
after an interesting time with Sir Clarence, we take our leave. I shake hands
with Stuart's father, give his Mother a peck on the cheek, and then shake
Stuart's hand. His eyes speak what I know he wants to say, and mine do the
same. Just one glance is enough to say how much we love each other.

On the
journey home, rather than joining in the conversation, I sit back in the comfortable
leather seats and watch the world go by. My thoughts are on my wonderful lover
who has been beneath me today, and his whispered words: "I love you Michael.
I love you. I love you."

I love
you too, Stuart, and I wish I was travelling home with you now, and we could be
together like a proper couple. It will happen one day, of that I'm certain.
It's gone well today, Alex told me in a quiet moment that it had gone very well
indeed. I'm still puzzled by his words, because there was air of mystery in the
way he said it.

To be
continued...

Other stories on Nifty by John
Teller/The Storyteller can be found here.